Healing with Love
by ShaGaga
Summary: Oliver gets injured during a Quidditch game; Percy's there to comfort him. Oliver/Percy. Slash. Fluff. This is my first-ever fanfiction, so enjoy.


Healing with Love

The sky was a flashing blur of red and green, as the Quidditch players zipped around the field. Oliver Wood clutched his broomstick tightly, watching in every direction for an oncoming opponent. The Gryffindor team was only a quaffle ahead of Slytherin's. Suddenly, a streak of silver and green shot up quickly from the left; Oliver raced toward it but was too late as the quaffle blazed through the goal hoop like a baby Hungarian horntail.

"Ten points to Slytherin!" shouted Lee Jordan, annoyed at the score, which was now a tie.

_Damn! _cursed Oliver, as his forehead and palms started to sweat. He glared around the field for any signs of the next quaffle. _Focus_ he told himself. There was no way he would let the next one pass. A few minutes later, he managed to spot a Slytherin chaser coming toward his side. The chaser hurled his quaffle toward the middle goal, but as Oliver reached out to block it, a bludger struck his right arm with tremendous force and a sharp _crack. _He winced as a second bludger struck his left. "_Crack!" _again. He turned around and saw some Slytherin beaters snickering like a pair of brute apes. Madam Hooch noticed the incident and immediately called a time-out.

"Let's get this fellow to the Hospital Wing, now!" she ordered to close-by spectators. "Fawcett! Stebbins! Stop snogging and escort Mr. Wood to the Hospital Wing. And no secret escapades on the way back."

Oliver clenched his teeth in pain as he was rushed inside. Madam Pomfrey set him down on a comfortable bed and rolled up his sleeves. Both arms were red, swollen, and bruised, so she placed cool towels on them. Oliver sighed. He'd been hit with bludgers plenty of times before, so he wasn't a mess. Still, he remained impatient. The sooner he was treated, the sooner he could play Quidditch again.

"Not to worry, dear, I'll be back in a few seconds to patch you all up," Madam Pomfrey assured. She left the room but returned shortly with a bottle of Skele-Gro. "Now, Mr. Wood, your arms have been badly fractured, but a couple good doses of this Skele-Gro ought to fix it up. Thank heavens you came to me instead of going to that loony Lockhart fellow; he couldn't even fix a crooked painting." She poured some into a small mug and mixed in some sugar and honey. She lifted it to Oliver's mouth and he drank it, which eased the pain.

"Thank you," Oliver responded. He squirmed out of bed, but was stopped by Madam Pomfrey.

"Oh no you don't! I'm sorry dear, but you'll need some more Skele-Gro throughout the day. Try to get some rest now; you'll be treated again in three hours." Oliver groaned. He desperately wanted to know what happened after he was taken into the Hospital Wing, but soon drowsiness overcame him. _A little nap won't hurt_, he reckoned.

Oliver woke up with eyes half-closed; looking up, he saw the silhouette of a tall boy sitting on the adjacent bed.

"Hello, sleepyhead. You're finally up?" laughed the tall boy. Oliver's eyes flung open at the ever-recognizable voice and met the smiling redhead in front of him.

"Percy! What are you doing here?" Oliver asked, obviously surprised. He straightened himself up before he remembered that his arms were still injured. Percy gasped out of concern for his friend, but Oliver calmed him down. "Don't worry, I'm all right."

"Well, if I want to be Minister one day, I must familiarize myself with all the different parts of the wizarding community. Right now, I'm learning about Magical healers, so Madam Pomfrey is letting me assist her."

"Oh?" asked Oliver. His roommate of several years hardly took a break from studying. Everyone in Hogwarts made fun of Percy for it, but Oliver admired his ambition and hard work. After all, Oliver applied the same level of dedication to his Quidditch training.

"Yep!" answered Percy, who stood up and moved closer to Oliver. "Madam Pomfrey had to leave for a meeting, but she gave me directions and put me in charge of the Hospital Wing for now. Luckily, you're the only patient here; this is my first day without her, so I better not be overwhelmed." Percy smiled at Oliver, and Oliver smiled back. Their eyes met: deep brown against bright blue. Their gaze lingered for a moment before the silence was broken. "So, Ollie, I'm going to give you a bit more Skele-Gro." He poured some into a cup, but unlike Madam Pomfrey, didn't add any sugar or honey.

"Er, Percy, my arms aren't completely healed. Do you mind, er feeding me?" asked an embarrassed Oliver Wood.

Percy stared at him blankly. "You want me to feed you? I suppose I could; I'd do anything for you." _Anything for you. . . _those three words echoed inside Percy's head. They were strong, powerful words, yet they felt weird. He didn't know why, but one thing he knew for sure: they were true. Casting the thought away, he conjured up a spoon and scooped some Skele-Gro into it. Then he held it up to the other's lips.

Oliver took a sip, but - "_Pttshha!"_ –. He spit it out right onto Percy's robes!

"Oi, Percy. I'm sorry!" apologized Oliver. He knew how easily annoyed his friend could get when his tidiness was marred.

"Aw Ollie, it's all right. These robes are bloody old anyways, so don't worry about them. You should instead be focusing on taking your medication. It will provide enough magic to stimulate your osteocytes to produce . . ." He continued his sermon about the benefits and history of Skele-Gro and something about Errol's broken wing, but the lecture reached nowhere. Oliver was busy looking at Percy and wondering why no girls ever seemed interested in him. Percy was quite truthfully a handsome guy, and Oliver found him even more handsome as the sunlight from the windows landed on Percy's fair skin and golden-red curls, bathing the tall redhead in a warm glow.

"Ollie, are you listening to me?" inquired Percy. "Here, take this Skele-Gro, and try not to spit it out again, 'kay?" Percy smiled as he handed Oliver the cup again. Never one to be completely serious, Oliver started joking around.

"Percy, you can't honestly expect me to drink this when it's so bloody repulsive? Why don't _you_ go try a bit of that?"

"Fine, I will. But you better promise to drink it up."

"No problem."

Oliver eagerly waited for Percy's reaction. Being a bookworm throughout his whole life, Percy had never seriously broken any bones. Oliver grinned deviously as he thought about this moment of Percy's first time tasting Skele-Gro. Raising the cup to his mouth, Percy took a hearty gulp and (just like Oliver)– "_Blechshth!"_ – He looked up and saw that he had sprayed the Skele-Gro all over Oliver's face!

Percy blushed at the sight of his friend's face, which was covered in the sticky medicine. Oliver spoke up. "Well, mate? Are you just going to stand there or are you going to help clean up?" Percy nodded and grabbed a small towel. He reached over to the boy's face and began wiping away. When he placed back the towel, but Oliver called out, "Oi, you missed a spot." Percy turned around and saw that indeed a drop of Skele-Gro still lay on the left cheek, so he extended his arm and brushed his fingers over the cheek delicately. He liked how smooth and surprisingly soft the skin was. He placed a palm on Oliver's face and slowly slid his hand down Oliver's check, across the left jaw, and down his neck. Percy had never caressed anyone so lovingly before, not even his past girlfriend Penelope. It was a magnificent feeling as the two boys enjoyed the sensation of each other's touch. Before long, their faces were mere inches apart, close enough for their eyes to dissolve in the space between them, creating a swirl of rich brown and crystal sky-blue.

Without breaking the gaze, Percy slid his hand under Oliver's shirt and felt the strong abdominal muscles of the Quidditch athlete. Oliver chuckled a little as it tickled him slightly. Percy's hand made its way up to Oliver's chest and rested over the heart. Its quick, rhythmic beat could be felt under the skin of the bare chest. A few seconds later, Percy pulled away and released himself from the gaze. He was flustered and ran his fingers through his thick, curly hair.

"I- I apologize, Ollie. I d-don't know why I d-did that," he stuttered. Confused and embarrassed, Percy got up and started to walk away.

"No! Wait, Percy. Sit down." Percy sat down on the side of the bed, nervously wringing his hands. He was afraid; he didn't want his friend to be angry. "Listen," Oliver began, "I love you." Percy almost collapsed from the shock.

"What? What, er, did you say?"

"I said I love you, Percy." A moment passed by in which Percy tried to think of a coherent response. _Oh damn,_ Oliver thought, _I've gone and scared the Merlin out of him. _It seemed as though Percy was being jinxed by a permanent Silencing charm when the latter opened his mouth.

"I love you, too." Percy placed his one hand behind Oliver's head and clasped the other around Oliver's fingers. He leaned closer, staring affectionately at his friend, and kissed him. Oliver kissed back, and after what seemed like an eternity, they relinquished their lips. Both boys blushed and stroked each other's hair.

"Well _that_ certainly beats any Quidditch match," chimed Oliver.

Percy laughed at the remark and thought about how Oliver could always cheer him up. The Head-Boy was an amazing wealth of knowledge: he could speak Mermish and Gobbledegook, recall any section from a Magical Law book from memory, and brew over two-hundred potions. But today, he learned something new: that Oliver Wood truly _loved him._ Throughout all his lessons at Hogwarts, he enjoyed this one the most.


End file.
